


Touch

by TiffinRiver



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff complete fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 22:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3745531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiffinRiver/pseuds/TiffinRiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Touch is more important in Cardassian culture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinsnip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinsnip/gifts).



> I have to gift this to tinsnip, after all she gave me the idea.

The replimat was as crowded as ever, people moving from replicator to table, from table to the door.

  
Garak stood at the door, scanning the crowd for a familiar tousled brown head.  
A look of displeasure briefly appeared in his blue eyes when no tousled brown head was forthcoming. With a resigned sigh, he moved towards the replicators

_His dear Doctor was never late, therefore he must be caught up in his duty at-_

Garak had to force himself to continue moving at the same easy pace, no one around him appeared to have noticed his momentary lapse.

_When on earth had Julian Bashir become his dear Doctor?_

Garak found he had no answer to this, and it bothered him, throughout his meal. A human drink called Earl Gray Tea, rather bitter for his taste, and a Bajoran dish chosen at random.

_I'm losing my touch._

He stood, and froze as warm hands settled on his shoulders. He turned,  Doctor Bashir was standing there, a wide smile on his face, "Garak! I thought I'd missed you!"

  
Garak tilted his head slightly to the left, on Cardassia this would have been an almost scandalous act of flirtation.

_But I'm not on Cardassia, and my dear Doctor has no idea what the movement means._

"Perhaps you did."

  
Julian copied Garak’s pose, tilting his head slightly to the right, and Garak had to remind himself, once again, that Julian was human and knew nothing of the cultural meaning.

  
"Then how Garak, am I talking to you?"

  
Garak answered quickly,"Perhaps I am an interactive hologram."

  
Julian frowned "You feel real enough."

  
Garak shifted, changing his posture, amusement, teasing. "Do I?"

  
"Yes, of course...No! I mean yes, Garak, stop it!"

  
Julian walked,

_No, flounced._

Around to the other side of the table and sat. Garak smiled to himself.

_His dear Doctor was so easy to fluster, and what a pretty blush he has when he is flustered._

Garak seated himself opposite Julian, "Then, maybe, I am a Changeling, sent here to spy on the Federation."

  
Julian...scoffed, there was no other word for the disbelieving sound,

  
"Besides the fact you do that anyway, spy on the Federation I mean-"

  
Garak interrupted with a mock hurt expression and a "Doctor, what have I told you, I am no more a spy than you are a tailor!"

  
Julian waved a hand at him, "I'm fairly sure I'd notice if one of my friends was a Changeling."

  
"My dear Doctor, you cannot presume you know me that well."

  
Julian smiled "Perhaps I know you better than you think."

_What does he mean? Does he know?_

Julian was still watching him intently, Garak stared back innocently. Inside Garak’s head, the wheels of panic were just starting to turn.

  
Garak started as Julian’s hand came up to cover his own. "Garak?"

  
He took a breath,  the touch had shaken his thoughts. "Yes, Doctor?"

  
"Are you alright?"

  
Garak opened his mouth to speak, but caught sight of Julian’s eyes, teasing, clever, knowing eyes.

  
Those eyes suddenly glittered impishly, and Julian’s hand slid around to press palm to palm, in a very Cardassian sign of affection. When he pressed his fingers just a bit harder against Garak’s and ever so slightly interlaced them, Garak jerked his hand back.

  
Julian was smiling Garak noticed. A slightly smug smile, and definetly a pleased one.

_What does he think he's doing?_

"Doctor! What are you doing?"

  
His voice was steady, sure. Julian’s smile became (if possible) smuger. He reached for Garak’s hand again, palm up. Garak set his jaw and stood, "Excuse me, Doctor. I have work to be getting on with."

  
If he'd looked back he would have seen Julian sitting by himself, a massive grin on his face.  
                         ~  
Garak paced his shop, he had work to do, a dress, some pants that needed hemming (Chief O’Brian's, again), but he couldn't focus. He knew he should go and find Julian,

_He probably doesn't even know what it means. I'll have to explain. He'll be mortified._

Garak sighed loudly to himself, and quickly tidied the shop. Instead of heading towards his quarters, he walked towards Julian’s. Reaching them he rang  
the bell, there was the sound of footsteps, a muffled curse and Doctor Bashir opened the door.

  
"Garak.."

  
"Doctor, I -"

  
They spoke at the same moment, Julian smiled, "Come in."

  
"Thank you."

  
Garak sat uncomfortably on the sofa, Julian sprawled on the chair. "What's wrong, Garak?"

  
"At lunch, I fear that you did not understand what you were doing."

  
"Of course I did."

  
"Doctor , I am not sure you quite underst-."

  
Garak was cut off by Julian's palm against his own.

  
"This?"

  
Garak shook his head, "No, Doctor-"

  
Fingers ever so slightly interlaced,

  
"This?"

  
"Yes. How do you know?"

  
Julian smiled and proof of the effect it was having, if any was needed, on Garak was evident when Julian changed topic and Garak let him,

  
"I was talking to Odo, he explained Cardassian flirting."

  
Julian linked their fingers a bit more firmly, Garak's eyes widened,

  
" This isn't just flirting, Doctor."

  
Julian nodded" It's a kiss."

_for a non-Cardassian he is surprisingly good._

Garak slowly returned the pressure, and Julian grinned,

**_Oh thank God, I thought I'd got it wrong!_ **


End file.
